


My Prince

by SherbetLemon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bodyguard Keith (Voltron), Bodyguard Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Injuries, Prince Lance (Voltron), Protectiveness, Secret Identity, Secrets, supportive boyfriends, sword fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherbetLemon/pseuds/SherbetLemon
Summary: Keith was Lance's bodyguard. It didn't matter that he was living on a farm on the outskirts of a safe kingdom and that there was more danger in animals than assassins, Keith wanted a job where he could finally use his skills.He never expected to fall in love, and he certainly never expected Lance to be a prince.But when a palace guard bursts into their kitchen mid embrace, Keith whips into action and is shocked to learn just why Lance employed him in the first place. Can he still keep them both safe when the dangers become more imminent?





	1. Royalty

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm following the [monthlyklance](https://monthlyklance.tumblr.com/post/185018344681/monthlyklance-klance-positivity-week-prompts) prompts on tumblr once again!  
> This week is klance positivity week and I'm hoping there won't be too much drama in the later chapters for it :D
> 
> This is one fic combining most of the prompts :)

Keith had left his back open. The afternoon sun blazed through the kitchen window, dousing the cabinets in gold and Keith outshone them all, loose shirt waving with every movement of his hands as he stood over the counter. It was a dangerous game to play in a kitchen full of knives and heavy pans. As Lance’s bodyguard, he was really slacking. It seemed as if a lesson was in order and Lance was only happy to oblige.

Rushing forward, he scooped Keith up in his arms, wrapping him up tight against his chest.

“Hey handsome,” he breathed, soaking up the full-body shudder Keith gave in response. “You left yourself open.”

“Did I?” Keith asked coolly, falling boneless against him, “or was this all a trap?”

Lance shook his head, burying his nose in the crook of Keith’s neck before pressing soft kisses along his pulse and all the way up to the delicate skin behind his ear.

“That wouldn’t be very chivalrous of you my knight.”

Keith squirmed under the attention, pushing Lance out with his shoulder only to twist around in his hold.

“M’not a knight though.” He said, sliding his hands onto Lance’s waist and squeezing to punctuate his point. Lance squeaked, stumbling closer and landing inches from Keith’s mouth. It was so tempting to tell him. Breathe the words against those lips. They’d never spill the secret.

See, Lance was the Prince of Altea. Youngest of five, albeit, but prince no less. He could make Keith a knight with just a few choice words. A strike of his quill and Keith could have status beyond all those in the land. But Keith didn’t need that. He liked farm Lance – the strange man who apparently needed a bodyguard against chickens not assassins. Keith never asked why. And that was what made Lance adore him all the more. Apparently, Lance being Lance was enough. And though it killed him not to share despite his safety being dependent on it, he couldn’t help believing Keith wouldn’t care either way. It left Lance with a warm feeling in his stomach.

Looping his arms around Keith’s broad shoulders, he sunk into the hold, looking up through long lashes. “But you still wouldn’t set up a trap.”

“You sure about that?”

Keith wore a dangerous smirk, the kind Lance loved to taste. It would be so easy to kiss it away into oblivion, forget the argument and fall into one another. But the mischievous spark had him pausing. Was Keith up to something? Lance peered over his shoulder. A lump of dough sat quietly on the countertop, unassuming, and flour dusted the work surface like a thin layer of snow fallen overnight. A perfect blanket awaiting to be discovered.

“Wait a minute…”

Keith smoothed his hands down to Lance’s backside, strong touch almost distracting enough to lead Lance away from his revelation. Lips drew closer, pink and inviting. Lance jumped back.

“YOU SCOUNDREL!”

Lance grabbed Keith’s hands, throwing them out in front of him in disgust. Powder puffed around them in bright white clouds, flour spilling over the floor. Traitor! Lance whipped around to find handprints all over his black trousers.

“Keith,” he whined, smacking uselessly at the dust, “I just washed these.”

Keith snorted. Then laughter was erupting from his chest and he fell back against the counter. Lance did his best to glare, rubbing in vein at the light patches now dotting his dark shirt.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

Keith hummed, sounding not in the least bit guilty. Then he put his still very floury hands back on Lance’s waist, and reeled him back in. “But now there’s no problem if I keep touching you.”

Lance frowned. He should not be encouraging this sort of behaviour. But Keith was drawing him closer, charcoal eyes burning with excitement and the fight was quickly becoming a losing one.  Keith’s delight was always infectious. It was because it was so rare. Those eyes were so often stormy. Or worried. Seeing him so free, and for Lance no less, made Lance’s heart skip beats in his chest. Instead of resisting, Lance found himself shaking his head, a smile pulling strongly at his cheeks.

“I should be getting protection from you.” He mumbled. Then Keith was closing the distance and Lance’s eyes fluttered shut, lost to the warmth of those lips. These were Lance’s favourite. Slow kisses with passion easing through every movement. Lance stroked his hands carefully down Keith’s chest as the other squeezed him tightly to his hips. There was no urgency, nowhere to be. Just the two of them, breathing each other in as the savoured every touch, knowing they’ll always have this. Lance gave himself over Keith, forgetting the world. Then the door burst open.

In a second, Lance was thrown against the counter and Keith ducked low in front of him. He held his sheathed sword out in warning, hand placed protectively against Lance’s chest where his heart beat erratically to meet it.

“Prince Lance!”

There was royal guard in their kitchen. Dressed in purple patrol armour with a crest sewn to her lapel that Lance recognised immediately. She was in the secret communications unit, a selection of individuals working just outside the Castletown as regular officers but trusted to carry messages straight from the Royal family itself. Her face was flushed as if she’d ran all the way out here and she dropped to her knee, slamming a golden arrow onto the tiles in front of them.

“The palace is under attack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have other fics to write but I really wanted to join in on klance positivity week!!  
> I hope it doesn't come out too rushed, I had big ideas but didn't want to write a long fic!


	2. First Meeting

_10 months earlier_

Keith liked showing up to market too early. It meant nothing was on sale, and stall keepers glared if you stepped a little too close, but it was also quiet. Keith wasn’t keen on the hustle and bustle or the absolute carnage that was the eight am rush. Keith would happily take the bruised apples and slithery cuts of meat at the end of the day if it meant avoiding careless elbows and jabbing knees. However, he had to get to town early if he wanted to get the best jobs.

The noticeboard was always fully stacked at the start of the day, fresh papers fluttering in the wind. Keith hadn’t been able to hold down a permanent job since arriving in Altea, something of his background as an enemy soldier making him untrustworthy. He didn’t regret his decision leaving the army, or even coming to Altea, but he did wish making money wasn’t such a chore. He could only get a few hours of employment a day sweeping floors or covering for the sick. It wasn’t exactly a steady wage. Plus, Keith was a fully trained swordsmen, even chopping onions would be closer to his skillset.

Scanning the board as always, Keith sunk into his hip, losing hope fast. Muriel wanted a dishwasher again. Apparently her youngest was a sickly girl, never being able to work more than a few hours. Keith thought it was a little less to do with sickness and a little more to do with the downing of ale leftover in the patrons mugs before she cleaned them. Keith sighed. At least Muriel paid well. Reaching out to take the ad, he fully intended to spend the rest of his days washing dishes at the inn when he stopped. Something caught his eye. Underneath the worn-out notice, was a small slice of parchment. It shone in the early morning sunshine, with faultless ink drawn daintily across the paper. Fancy.

Keith slid his fingers against the notelet. Now it wasn’t hidden under Muriel’s sun-bleached sign, it was hard to miss. It was almost too clean, too nice to be sat in the market under centuries old notices. And what it said was even more peculiar:

_Protection Request. Trained Swordsmen Required for Buttercup Farm. Enviable Pay. Discretion Necessary. Apply Direct to Lance at the Cottage._

Keith’s heartbeat quickened in his chest. Trained swordsmen?  That’s what Keith had been waiting for. Whipping his head around, Keith checked for nosy passers-by before grabbing the notelet and shoving it quickly into his pocket. Then he sauntered out the square, taking a few wrong turns before heading straight out of town.

 

Buttercup Farm was a fair way out from the village centre. There was a pleasant dirt road cut between luscious green fields on the way up and blackberries grew along the hedge rows. At the end, a small cottage sat snugly under apples trees, like a lump of butter against the sky. It was cute, with slightly overgrown climbers clinging to the front walls and grass just awaiting to be feasted upon by a lazy goat that sat amongst the daisies.

It seemed the owner must have moved in recently, the place needing a little neatening up but in no way falling apart. Maybe they were even new to the area, because, though Altea wasn’t perfect, it was no crime central. The worst thing to have happened in the past year was a serial apple thief. And that turned out to be a crow. Whoever this was clearly thought they needed protection from something.

Keith approached the door carefully, wrapping his knuckles against the wood. He expected to be greeted by an old man. One with hazy eyes, who would jump at the slightest noise, living with a fear grown from a life spent in dangerous lands. Maybe he was an ex-general? Or a sea captain? His children had probably sent him out here, wanting him to live out his last days in comfort. But he being stubborn wanted a body guard, thinking he wouldn’t survive a night in this foreign paradise.

When the door opened, Keith realised he could not have been more wrong.

“Hello?” Came a worried voice and Keith quickly blinked out his stupor. This had to be one of the children right? Because stood across from Keith was no old wilting man. This guy had youth spilling out his pores. Bright tan skin practically glowed around his smooth wrinkle-less eyes that could only be described as eager. His body was tall and lean and belonged to a young man no older than Keith. And he waved a perfectly clean hand in Keith’s eyes, bobbing up and down in front of his eyes in concern. “You okay man?”

“YES!” Keith forced out, quickly standing straight. Clearing his throat, he spoke at a more appropriate volume, “I’m here to apply for the protection position. With Lance.”

The man hummed. Then a sly smile pulled against his lips and he stepped back, pulling the door aside.

“Well, then. You’re in the right place.”

Keith nodded, crossing onto the wooden floor and feeling his every footstep being measured by those unmissable eyes.

“Is Lance in?” Keith asked, trying to quench his nerves as he looked around the walls. They were empty of any photographs, just yellow paint and dark wood, covered in notches from years of use.

“Yes, you just met him.”

Keith stopped, spinning around to find the guy smirking at him from the closed door.

“It’s me I’m Lance. And you are?”

This was Lance. This person here? The one who needed protection was a healthy young man with a spring in his step?

“Your name?” Lance pressed, leaning forward once again.

“Keith?”

Lance raised a perfectly kept eyebrow. “You sure?”

Keith grunted turning back around. Of course he was sure. It was Lance who was the confusing one. How could someone living on a farm have not even a single mark on his skin? As far as Keith could tell he was flawless. Lance was the opposite of Keith. No dirt on his cheeks, or scars from too much rough housing as a kid. His eyes shone with curiosity, unlike Keith’s that were dulled from seeing too much of life. Keith found himself shifting uncomfortably in his old worn shirt. Lance did not seem like the type of person who kept Keith’s around for long. Why was he even being let inside? Was Lance laughing at him? Was Keith just a jester? Here only until his amusement ran out.

“Just through the door on your left.” Lance called, and Keith paused. Should he leave now? Save himself the embarrassment? But then Lance was at his side, nodding to a small room wearing a smile that almost seemed shy. It was a small thing, crooked and reaching into uneasy brows. It was kind of sweet, if Keith squinted and ignored all the previous comments. Maybe Lance really was just new to all this? A job was a job right? And Keith hadn’t touched a sword in so long he was starting to lose the callouses on his palms. Even if he was mocked, at least Keith wasn’t the one employing a bodyguard for a farm on the outskirts of the kingdom. Making a quick decision, Keith ducked inside.

It was a dining room, with a decently sized wooden table and small curtained window overseeing the farm. There were only two chairs set up, one across from the other with a small vase of wilting flowers placed in between. One side had papers lined up neatly and the other empty. Keith assumed the empty place was meant for him.

“Okay!” Lance announced happily, sliding into the other seat and shuffling the papers. “Just a few questions, and a couple of small agreements, then we can start this whole thing up!”

Keith nodded, wondering what exactly this whole thing was. It seemed kind of dodgy and he made sure to map out his escape route just in case.

“Where did you train?”

Keith froze. This question should have been expected really. Everybody always asked. But it was the deal breaker. Keith had never lied as such, but even just vague hints at his past had people turning their backs. Daibazol was the enemy kingdom. Nobody wanted to employ a soldier trained by them. Keith sighed. But still, he answered honestly, because it wasn’t exactly a secret amongst the villagers, Lance would find out eventually. Best to get it over and done with quickly.

“Daibazol.” He said bluntly. “In the Galran army.”

Lance recoiled at the name, sitting a little straighter, but to his credit, didn’t display his disgust all over his face like some of Keith’s previous employers.

“Then why are you in Altea?” Lance asked coolly, sliding his papers back to the desk. That was probably a bad sign.

“There was conflict. Within the ranks. I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want-”

Keith could feel anger bubbling in his stomach once again. There was always so much conflict. Different factions, different leaders, no path set in stone. Marmora. Galra. They were all the same. Two names vying for power. Even when there was a winner there wasn’t. The worst of it, were the demands. Keith understood his role as soldier well enough, but as time went on, he understood it less and less. Why were there so many plots against kings and queens, friend or foe, when the kingdom itself was falling apart?

“I couldn’t stay when all their plans led to destruction.” Keith said with finality.

That reason was only really scratching the surface, but no outsiders seemed to know of the power struggles plaguing their country. Keith had agreed to be a soldier not an assassin, but the Galra didn’t take too kindly to that attitude. And so, he’d left. That’s all that mattered now. Even as the seconds ticked by in silence.

Keith stared down at the table, refusing to see Lance’s reaction. Would it be pity? Or distaste? Was Keith a coward in his eyes or a rebel in need of a lesson? It didn’t matter, if Lance was paranoid enough to need a bodyguard then an ex-enemy soldier was out of the question.

“I’ll let myself out.” Keith rushed, pushing back his seat.

“No.”

Keith startled, finally meeting the other’s eyes. He didn’t seem disgusted, or sorrowful either. If anything, he seemed excited, maybe even impressed. Whatever it was, Keith found he couldn’t look away.

“Please.” He said, gesturing to the seat with a warmth in his eyes, “sit down Keith. You’ve got just the qualifications I’m looking for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their first meeting!! I could write so much fluff of them just living together but I will resume the cliff hanger from chapter one or else the fic would never get finished!!  
> Maybe I'll write some extra drabbles in the future~
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


	3. Confessions

After time had briefly frozen with the appearance of the guard, everything began happening very quickly. Lance placed a firm hand on Keith’s shoulder, and suddenly his whole demeanour changed. He stood tall, regal even, thanking the young guard and picking up the arrow.

“Where’s my mother?” He asked, fiddling with the arrow and managing to pop open a hidden compartment to reveal a scroll tucked neatly inside.

“En route to Daibazol. She left yesterday for a diplomatic meeting. Princess Veronica is in charge.”

“She safe?”  

“Yes, but she must protect the castle. She believes this attack was a diversion orchestrated by the Galra so that they can eliminate the Queen whilst she visits. We need you to bring back your mother.”

“Okay.” Lance said, scanning over the paper, only the slightest shine in his giving away his internal distress. “I’ll gather my supplies. Be back here in ten minutes with two horses.”

“Sir.”

Keith watched carefully as the guard strode out the house, keeping his sword close at hand. This girl didn’t seem like a threat, and Lance responded immediately to her arrival, but that didn’t mean he was going to take any chances. He was Lance’s bodyguard – his protector – no matter who entered the house he had to be on high alert.

The word ‘prince’ echoed through his mind. Keith didn’t know much about Altean Royalty, but he did know that they were incredibly protective of their younger family members. No children under the age of eighteen were ever seen outside the castle walls, and apparently even insider glances were kept to a minimum. There was no reason to believe Lance wasn’t one of them.

“Keith I-”

Lance’s voice broke on the last syllable and Keith whipped back to face him, watching as his face fell in on itself. He went from practiced confidence to overwhelming sorrow in less than a second and it sent a spike of panic through Keith just as fast.

“I’m so sorry for lying.”

Lance looked broken. Fearful even and Keith hated it. He shook his head, immediately walking forward to meet him. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

Lance seemed almost startled by the action, but Keith remained undeterred, slowly reaching out until he could hold onto Lance’s arms.

“You’re not mad?” Lance asked carefully, still reluctant to accept the touch.

“Of course not.”

Keith was shocked sure, maybe even awed at the sight of Lance turning into a prince right before his eyes. But Keith knew Lance had a secret from the beginning, and this reveal changed nothing. Lance may have led a country, but he was also still the same young man Keith had been living with for the past ten months. The same person who teased him for forgetting to buy milk and spent half his day playing hide and seek with chickens. He was sweet and ridiculous and always excited to learn, taking time to listen to anyone willing to talk. If anything, Keith was warmed that such a kind person was in charge of a country. And now he was stood there in Keith’s arms, fragile and scared and all Keith wanted to do was hold him. So, he did, pulling Lance tight to his chest until it almost hurt to breathe.

“Makes sense why you needed a bodyguard now.”

Lance laughed wetly into his shoulder.

“We all get the chance.” Lance said, slowly uncoiling himself from Keith’s grip. “When we turn eighteen. To live among the people. This way, we’ll never forget who we work for.”

Keith nodded, taking in Lance’s blotchy red cheeks and glistening eyes, and was filled with overwhelming affection. This person, just how did Keith end up standing by his side? Prince or pauper, it wouldn’t matter. Keith wanted to stay there forever. Reaching up, he drew his thumb along Lance’s lashes, letting the droplets run down his arm.

“I think that’s very noble of you.”

Lance smiled shyly, leaning into the touch. “Even though I lied?”

Keith hummed, letting his other hand come up to cup his cheeks like a tulip. “It was really more of a redaction of the truth.”

Lance laughed, crinkle in his eyes squeezing out a few more tears and Keith’s heart bloomed. Cheeks grew warm beneath his fingers, and Keith couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to peck a kiss against those shy lips. It was chaste, and tasted overwhelmingly of salt, but it also dissipated the last of Keith’s nerves. Something had been sealed between them then, a secret promise for the future and Keith felt more than ever this was where he was supposed to be.

“So,” He said, watching Lance’s eyes gaze into his own, pupils wide and wanting, “what’s the plan then, my Prince?”

“We’re going to Daibazol.”

 

The next ten minutes flew by. With his plan approved, Lance stormed into their room, hauling up floorboards to reveal his sword and coat stashed away in an emergency hatch. As he threw on the silk coat and fastened his belt, Keith couldn’t stop staring. He had spent months walking right over Lance’s secret identity just to kiss him goodnight. It was so strange. Lance had a different coat on now, a whole life Keith knew nothing about, and yet, he was still Keith’s Lance. The one who would no doubt be demanding kisses before they left, just as if they were going to market. A bag to the face knocked him out of the daze.

“Food.” Lance commanded, shoving him back to the kitchen. Then parcels were being wrapped and cannisters were rolling into the bag. Keith threw it over his shoulder, the bottles clinking against his sword as he went. He was about to head for the door when Lance caught his hand.

“You don’t have to come.” He said, eyes steel even as his teeth dug divots into his lips, “I know this isn’t what you signed up for. I don’t want to force you.”

Keith shook his head, immediately feeling warmth bubble in his stomach like the first time they kissed. “You’re too much you know that?”

“Sorry?”

Keith clicked his tongue. Then he was leaning down, lips millimetres apart, “I’m coming. Whether I signed up or not. We’re partners now, right?”

Lance blinked widely but Keith barely noticed already kissing him once again, pouring in his passion. How much clearer could he be? Keith wanted to be with Lance. No titles necessary.

“R-right.” Lance whispered as they parted, shaky breaths hot against Keith’s lips. Keith grinned. Eight months and he could still make Lance’s knees go weak. That was something to be proud of. He pressed a final peck to those lips before twisting on his heel and waltzing out the house.

~♥~

“There’s been trouble brewing between Altea and Daibazol for years.” Lance explained as they powered through the forest, hooves thudding against dirt. “We’ve been trying to reach peace, setting up diplomatic meetings and such with the Galran Royal family but clearly not everyone is getting the message of peace.”

“You think they set this up as a trap?” Keith asked, ducking close to the horse to avoid stray branches.

Lance shrugged, “Maybe. Could just be Marmora agents.”

Keith hummed, focusing on the rhythmic galloping of their horses. How much did Lance know about the kingdom of Daibazol exactly? Keith knew who Marmora were of course, knew a lot of the factions within the Galra army. There was supposed to be cooperative leadership between the Galra and Marmora families, but years ago it had descended into chaos, insurgent factions cropping up like weeds. Even from the inside, it was hard to tell who was on the right side. Keith was lucky to have left when he did. But outside, it seemed the rest of the kingdom knew very little of the turbulence overtaking their leadership. Keith hadn’t even heard the name Marmora since leaving. Lance had been the first to utter it, and then it was with distaste.

“You okay?”

Keith startled, almost sending his horse bucking into a tree. He quickly quietened her down with soothing strokes to her side.

“Yeah.”

Lance gave him a look, not in the least bit convinced. Keith sighed.

“Just… haven’t been back in a while.”

Lance nodded, giving him a careful once over. Keith didn’t like it, quickly powering ahead to lead them out the forest.

~♥~

They had to slow on the mountain pass. The terrain was tricky and rocks kept sliding down the mountain side. Added to that the high reaching cliffs and the low light of the setting sun and it was becoming difficult to navigate safely. Lance refused to rest though – the quicker they got to Daibazol, the better – and Keith didn’t want to stop either. However, something didn’t sit well in is stomach. A movement glanced out the corner of his eye and he flinched, pulling his horse to a stop.

“Keith, is there something-?”

Lance’s words were obliterated as shouts burst out from the mountain side. Arrows streamed out from the rocks, piercing the ground on all sides. Keith whipped around, throwing his sheathed sword out and knocking them aside.

“Lance! Are you-?”

Keith didn’t finish his sentence. In the mayhem, Lance’s horse had bucked, the boy thrown to the ground in a blur of blue.

“LANCE!”

Keith raced forward, casting aside more arrows, as the horse darted down the pass. Leaping from his own, Keith ran towards the balled-up figure. Lance was curled against the rock, panting deeply, as his foot twitching awkwardly against the ground. Keith scooped him up under an arm, sheltering him from the onslaught of arrows with the length of his cape. Lance’s breaths only became more ragged as he fell weakly into his chest.

“Can you walk?” Keith asked, glancing around. There didn’t seem to be any targets for Keith to hit.  

“I-I don’t know.” Lance panicked, placing his foot gingerly to the ground and immediately retracting it. “Okay. Maybe not.”

Keith frowned, glancing back up the rocks. The arrow fire was slowing but Keith didn’t trust it. They needed to leave quickly.

“Okay, let’s just get to my horse.” Keith said, tugging Lance’s arm more firmly over his shoulder. Lance winced on the first step alone, stumbling into the mountain side. Keith quickly scrambled to catch him but then there was a flash and he threw them both down just in time for a knife to whiz past. It slammed into the rock overhead, clattering to the ground.

“That was close.” Lance rasped; giving a weak laugh. The sound made Keith’s heart ache. He looked down, nearly knocking noses with the other as he took stock of Lance’s state. There were grey lumps forming under his eyes, smile drooping as his chest knocked erratically against Keith’s.

“I’ll get us out of here.” Keith said firmly, gripping him tight by the shoulders just to grab something solid. He could feel the beginnings of a battle brewing in his veins. That knife had been close. Too close. And whoever threw it would not be getting a second chance. Sliding to his feet, Keith turned to wage war. There were targets everywhere now. Bandits jumping out from their cover. Arrows flying through the sky. Knives shining.

“Keith,” Lance spoke tiredly behind him, pulling at his trouser leg. “You need to leave.”

Keith shook his head. There was no way he was leaving Lance here. And glancing back it was clear they needed more time. Lance was panting against the rock, clutching his stomach as he struggled to sit up. More injuries, Keith thought bitterly. He wasn’t going to make it to the horse. The bandits were only meters away now. Keith stared at his sword, still sitting in its sheath. He glanced back, watching Lance’s eyes slipping shut.

“Please don’t hate me.” Keith whispered, swooping down to peck a kiss on his cheek, “I love you.”

“Keith?” Lance breathed, the voice reminiscent of late nights - Keith sliding into bed as Lance stirred half-asleep, a simple touch coaxing him back to dreamland. The sound sent his heart into overdrive and Keith spun around quickly. He hoped he’d get to hear that precious voice once again.

Then he finally unsheathed his sword, black blade gleaming orange in the setting sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's klance positivity week I should make it clear that Lance is fine and no-one is dying ♥  
> But I did want to add a little drama :D


	4. Partners

Lance would never get tired of waking up in strong arms, heat enveloping his body as if he were in one of the palace baths. He hummed, curling into the warmth. His face was kind of cold though, which was odd, but Lance didn’t pay it much mind, simply turning into his pillow. Or at least tried to. Instead of being met with firm resistance, Lance slipped into thin air and was suddenly scooped even tighter.

“Careful.” Came a hiss above him and Lance’s eyes flew open. He was not in bed. Nor in their tiny cottage on Buttercup farm. Instead his body was jumping up and down on the back of a horse, streaming through Daibazol forest with Keith clutching to him like a second skin.

“What…?” Lance began, wriggling back into Keith as close as he could. Grass and flowers rushed below their feet, too fast for Lance to focus on the small white buds.

“Shush,” Keith soothed, pressing his lips to Lance’s temple and curling his fingers around his waist, “rest.”

Lance bit his lip. He was exhausted, and just hearing the word ‘rest’ seemed to suck the energy from him. Before even realising, his head had lolled back onto Keith’s shoulder and his eyes were slipping shut. He didn’t want to sleep though. Something important had happened. Something Lance knew he couldn’t forget. He smoothed his hand along Keith arms, the only thing keeping his ragdoll body from slipping to the ground and traced the notches of his knuckles.

“M’okay.” Lance whispered, snuggling closer, “just… tired.”

Keith hummed, nudging Lance with his shoulder. “Then sleep.”

Lance shook his head. There was something missing. Trawling through hazy memory, he continued to crawl his fingers along Keith’s arm, skipping over his own waist and around to Keith’s hip. It wasn’t on the horses was it? Or in the house? Then he tapped against something cool, nails twinkling against metal and Lance felt something burn within his stomach.

_Please don’t hate me_

The lingering ghost of a kiss to his cheek. Lance’s fingers curled over the handle of the sword.

_I love you_

“You’re a prince.” Lance said, mind suddenly clear. The event itself was still a little blurry, but Lance could see the solid image as if captured in stained glass. Keith stood over him, a beautiful silhouette over orange sky, ready to be his last defence with a shining black blade held high. A symbol. The sword of Marmora. The signature specific to Marmoran royalty.  Keith stiffened behind him.

“You’re tired.” Keith pressed. Lance leaned up to rest his cheek against the warmth of Keith’s throat.

“I am. And you’re the Crown Prince of Marmora.”

Keith flinched. His eyes flicked briefly to Lance’s wide and unsure. Not how they usually looked at all. Lance moved his hand back from the sword to thread their fingers together.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, letting his eyes droop shut as he listened to Keith’s heart beating too quickly under his ear, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Keith shook his head, fingers tightening against his stomach. “It’s not.”

“Why?”

“BECAUSE!” Keith burst out, eyes going wild. Lance flinched at the volume and Keith immediately went soft again, hugging him closer as his lips brushed through his hair in an apology.

“Because,” he said, quieter this time. “I ran away. I left the kingdom in ruins. I didn’t like what they were doing but I didn’t fix it. I just left. And I put you in danger.”

Lance shook his head, squeezing Keith’s hand tight. “No. I’m in danger because of some greedy old bastards who want to rule the world, not because a good man couldn’t watch innocent people die.”

Keith paused a second. Then he eyed Lance curiously, “what do you know?”

“I know there’s x’s over the heads of every member of my family.” Lance said, matter-of-factly. “I know they didn’t cross over to their hearts because of a certain prince.”

Keith’s brows knotted in confusion. “But, nobody even knows of Marmora anymore. The Galra family are in change, I’m barely even a prince. How did you…?”

“Ah,” Lance said, tapping at Keith’s nose. The boy flinched back adorably, like a kitten experiencing their first sneeze and Lance was very nearly tempted to do it again. “State secret. Altea’s got spies everywhere.”

Keith paused, pupils nearly crossing where they focused on the end of his nose. Lance licked his lips wanting to bump it again. But then Keith was shaking his head and concentrating on the path ahead. “Doesn’t matter anyway. If I’d just stayed-”

“You went missing five years ago correct?” Lance interrupted, words becoming sharper as his anger took residence over sleepiness.

“Y-yeah.”

Keith glanced between Lance and the road. He probably didn’t realise that Altea kept very much up to date with the politics of any kingdom who seemed to have a new assassination plot every week. Lance had found the lessons exhausting. Except for the ones where one tiny prince refused to proceed. An ache had formed in his heart, a boy stuck amongst power-hungry adults, destined to become another murderer. Or victim. Whichever suited them best. Suddenly the old emotions were bursting out of Lance’s heart like flames.

“You were fourteen Keith!” He cried, uncaring for how tight his grip on Keith’s hand had become. “They tried to turn you into a killing machine.”

“But I could’ve fought them! I could’ve stopped all of this!”

“Or you could’ve fallen to their brainwashing.”

Keith fell quiet and Lance took his opportunity.

“I think it was very noble of you.” He said, nudging his nose against the corner of Keith’s jaw until it unclenched. “To find the courage to say no. To be brave enough to leave. You chose not to kill, even when the decision meant you had to run away from everything you knew. I admire that. Admire you.”

“But now-”

“Now we can fix this.”

Keith sucked his lip under his teeth, staring ahead uncertainly. Lance pinched his arm and he finally looked down.

“Partners, right?”

Lance watched the storm swirling in his eyes, the uncertainty pouring over him like rain, and he met it with fire. Keith took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Then they reopened, fire burning through his pupils like the light off his sword.

“Right.”

~♥~

They hadn’t exactly taken the scenic route. Just as Lance landed eyes on the grey husk of castle, Keith had thrown them down hill on a detour to the river. Then they’d tied the horse up to a metal ring hanging from the bridge and snuck underneath. From there, Keith led them into the castle’s escape tunnels, the only sound accompanying their squelching footsteps being water dripping arrhythmically into puddles Lance hoped to avoid stepping in. He wasn’t sure whether to blame the low light for his lack of vision, or the injury under his chest threatening to make him pass out. In any case, Lance held tightly to Keith’s shoulder, trusting him to avoid puddles and guide them through the maze of tunnels.

“This should lead us out to the cells.” Keith hushed, hand scraping along the wall as they walked. “We’ll find an empty room for you and I’ll go find your mother.”

“Uh, no.” Lance said shortly. “I’m coming with you.”

“Lance. You’re injured.”

“So?”

Keith didn’t reply, but the brush of his hair against Lance’s neck made his disagreement clear enough.

“I’m coming.” Lance said firmly. “As your employer, you can’t stop me.”

“Well, as your bodyguard I can.”

“And as a prince I don’t have to listen.”

“And as my lover?” Keith shot. Lance stopped short.

“What do you mean?”

“Lance I-” Keith’s voice cut with emotion and he hauled Lance closer only to walk them faster. After a moment of silence, his voice carried through the dark, barely above a whisper, “I can’t lose you.”

The vulnerability had Lance faltering in his resolve, only his ragged breaths echoing through the tunnel.

“You won’t.” He settled on saying, leaning up to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder, “I’m stronger than I look.”

“It’s not that.” Keith said, laying his cheek across Lance’s, “I know your strong. I know you’d risk  anything to be up there with your mother, but you’re injured. Let me handle this.”

Lance shook his head.

“No can do, my Prince.” He said, knocking their hips together and wincing as the action disturbed his ribs. “We’re partners, right? In it together.”

Keith stayed quiet a moment. Then he sighed, “okay.”

When the tunnels began glowing faintly orange and Lance could make out the outlines of granite bricks, Keith began walking faster. The pain in his chest was nearly overwhelming now, every step seeming to jostle his ribs which were fast taking attention over his aching foot. But Lance refused to focus on it, the flickering light promising their imminent arrival. And soon enough a rusted metal gate appeared up ahead, unassuming like any other cell door.

Keith gently leaned Lance up against the wall before going to fiddle with the lock and Lance rested his forehead against the bricks. He hadn’t realised how hot he’d gotten, but the cool stone was a relief to his soaked skin. It should have probably caused more concern, but Lance simply accepted the relief, exhaustion clinging to his body once again. He barely registered the door creaking open beside him, or the clash of it hitting the wall. But then Keith was curling an arm around him again, soft and warm and Lance let out a hum falling into him boneless.

“Lance?” He called, breath soft against Lance’s ear and making his stomach flutter.

“Keith.” He called back, curling a hand in the front of his jacket. “Still coming with you.”

Keith shook his head, urging them forward. “You’re a nuisance.”

Lance was about to pinch him when another voice echoed through the tunnel.

“Keith?”

Lance’s heart leapt into his throat. Quickly, he ducked under Keith’s cape, hoping the guard would run off soon. But then silence drew on and Lance noticed how Keith’s fingers dug into his hips. Was this just a guard? Lance gently brushed his fingers over Keith’s and he finally shook out of his stupor.

“Shiro?” He breathed. And his voice was higher than usual, almost holding a childlike quality. Lance couldn’t resist any longer, sweeping his gaze out to the figure, holding tight to Keith as he did. The man was a guard. Tall with broad shoulders, he clearly held a great amount of strength and yet he wasn’t wearing the usual façade. Instead, he seemed to slump over, eyes glassy with disbelief and smile wobbling over his lips.

“Keith.” He repeated, sounding overcome with relief. Then he was moving, crashing towards them with ill-regard for manner. He seemed about ready to tackle Keith, smile bursting over his cheeks when Keith flinched back and his eyes landed on Lance.

“Who’s this?” He asked, stumbling to a stop and opting to slap a firm hand on Keith’s shoulder instead of crushing them both.

Lance went to clear his throat but before he could introduce himself, Keith was talking.

“Prince Lance of Altea.”

So much for secrecy. Lance threw Keith a glare, but the other didn’t look guilty in the least. In fact his cheeks were flushed and the unrelentless smile on his lips said if anything he enjoyed saying that.

“It’s okay.” He assured, coaxing Lance out from his hiding place, “Shiro was my old advisor, practically my brother.”

Lance glanced between the two, weighing up their expressions. Shiro didn’t seem to be holding any hostility, only a permanent curve in his eyes as he watched the exchange like a proud father.

“Keith, what happened?” He asked, seemingly unable to hold himself back any longer, “I mean I hoped I’d see you again but I really thought-”

“Doesn’t matter.” Keith said sharply, abandoning the meaningful reunion, “we need to know where Lance’s mother is now.”

“The Queen?” Shiro asked, flicking his eyes between the two. Lance shrank back into Keith as he noticed his eyes linger over every injury. Too perceptive.

“Yes.” Keith rushed, holding Lance tight, “she’s in danger.”

Shiro blinked widely at them. “She’s up in the tower drawing room. But they’re just sharing wine. Lotor hasn’t ordered anything.”

“The wine!” Keith exclaimed, shoving Lance towards Shiro. “He’s gonna poison her!”

“What!” Lance shrieked, grabbing at Keith who dodged effortlessly, wrapping Shiro’s arms around him.

“I won’t let them.” He said firmly, adjusting his armour and realigning his belt. “Never again.”

“Keith what’s going on?” Shiro asked, allowing Lance to twist in his grip but irritatingly not letting him go.

“I’m going to fix this.”

“Keith, you better not be leaving me.” Lance hissed, thrashing at thick arms.

“Shiro, make sure he gets patched up.”

“Keith-”

“I’m taking back the throne.” Keith said coolly, as if announcing his plans to go to market. Lance shook his head desperately.

“No. You can’t. Not on your own. Let me help you.”

“Lance.” Keith said softly, reaching out to delicately cup his cheek. “I have to. I’m your bodyguard, right? I want to protect you, no matter what.”

“But we’re partners!” Lance said desperately, wobbling over the words.

“Which means I have to.”

Then Keith threw their lips together, messy and desperate. Lance longed to reach out, cling to him and never let go, but then Keith was moving away, refusing to lose his gaze.

“Take care of him.” Keith said, eyes unfocused. Lance’s throat burned with unspoken words. But then Keith was turning away, dashing along the corridor and Lance collapsed into Shiro.

“He’ll be fine.” The voice above him said. Lance whipped around, eyes burning.

“You will take me up there.”

~♥~

Keith ran up the winding stairs of the back tower, cursing the castle design. His sword bounced heavily in his hand, lungs burning from the amount exercise he’d suffered through that day. It didn’t hurt though. Not like watching the glass break in Lance’s eyes as Keith forced him into Shiro’s arms and ran way. He’d never hurt him like that again. Ever. But this was the only way to guarantee that.

Twisting around another bend, Keith lay eyes on the door left ajar. The Queen stood nursing a glass of red liquid, adorned in a formal gown with a smile pulled over round cheeks. That smile, it was so reminiscent of Lance’s that it made his chest ache. Then she was pulling the glass towards it and Keith charged forward.

Slamming through the door, he threw his sword through the air, shattering the glass just before it hit her lips.

“IT’S POISON!” He announced, watching the liquid explode over her hands as his sword smashed into the far wall, sticking out like a thorn. He let out a small laugh of relief, thankful he’d made it in time, before his body was slammed to the floor.

“Don’t let him move.” Came a harsh voice Keith recognised. He had to fight the urge to gag, twisting around under a guards knee to lay eyes on Lotor. Prince of the Galra. The man who constantly threw Keith at murder plans until he had no choice but to leave.

“He attacked your palace.” Keith hissed, eyes landing on the Queen. “He was going to poison you.”

The Queen stared at him. Then calmly, she set down the remainder of the glass, shaking away shards before rubbing the wine into her arm. Slowly, the skin around it began tinging green and she met Lotor head on.

“He’s right.” She breathed. Then her eyes switched into shards of ice. “You were going to kill me.”

Lotor shifted his chin up.

“Are.” Then his sword was sliding from its sheath. “Shame we couldn’t do this the easy way.”

The Queen jumped back, swiping up the shard of glass to slam it across Lotor’s face. Keith was about to throw the guard from his back when the weight disappeared entirely and he wobbled off course, the guard launching herself across the room in a flurry of white hair. Within seconds, she had Lotor pinned to the ground.

“What are you doing!?” Lotor roared, swiping at his own guard.

“Altea,” The woman hissed, wrestling the prince down. “Got spies everywhere.”

Not missing another moment, Keith sprang to his feet, racing to his sword still buried in the wall. As he grabbed the handle, Lotor gained the upper hand, throwing the guard across the room and into the Queen. Keith yanked at the sword, whipping eyes back and forth between the groups. Lotor was slowly getting to his feet, sword in hand whilst the Queen sat up, shaking the guard who’d fallen unconscious. Keith threw his weight towards the ground, but the sword didn’t budge. Why wouldn’t it budge?   

“I thought you were dead!” Lotor snarled, racing towards Keith. “Guess I’ll have to do the job myself.”

Keith dived to the side, narrowly avoiding Lotor’s sword as it sliced through the mantelpiece. Kicking desperately, he knocked Lotor back, jumping up to haul his sword from the wall. It still didn’t come. Glancing across the room, Keith spotted the Queen cradling the guard in her lap.

“GET OUT!” He yelled, tugging uselessly at the sword. Lotor stumbled back, snarl burning across his lips as he prepared to lunge. The sword still didn’t give. Keith could only hope the Queen got out as Lotor slashed forward, and he threw himself down with a metallic snap. Clattering to the floor, Keith threw his arm out on instinct to parry. With a metallic clash, he swept Lotor’s blow aside, sword protecting his throat like a shield. But his victory was short lived, as Lotor smirked down at him, victory burning in his eyes. Keith faltered, looking down at the clashing of their swords. His heart dropped out his stomach. The sword hadn’t come free. It was just a stub. Snapped blade no longer than a carving knife.

“You shouldn’t have come back, prince.” Lotor hissed, forcing his sword against Keith’s pathetic shard inches from his throat. “Then I wouldn’t have had to kill you.”

Keith let out a derisive laugh. “I wouldn’t want to deny you the pleasure.”

“How kind.”

Then Lotor released the hold, hauling his sword high above his head. Keith fell back against the wall, chest heaving with his racing heart. All he could think of was Lance. And the death of a promise rotting on his tongue.

 _I love you,_ Keith thought, the only words that would never turn into a lie.

Then something zipped through the air and Lotor froze. The sword clattered to the floor, and he stumbled back, hand thrown to his neck. Something was stuck in it, an arrow. Keith glanced in its direction finding a window and through it, Lance’s poisonous glare. Keith let out a laugh. Lance. Stood there, in the window of the opposite tower, aligning a cross-bow with piercing eyes that never left target, doing exactly what he said he’d do. Keith’s heart nearly burst out his chest.

Then he heard glass shattering and whipped around. Lotor was staggering across the room, slamming into the table coated with glass and wine. Keith wasn’t about to let him get away. With renewed vigour, he threw himself at the man, tackling Lotor to the ground. Then he wrestled out his hands and slammed them into his back, knees locked on either side of his waist. Faintly, he could hear the sound of a sword sliding from the ground. Then it flashed into his vision and Keith fell back stunned.

But it wasn’t aimed at him. Instead, the Queen stood tall, foot firm on Lotor’s back as she pointed the sword at his throat.

“Prince Lotor of Daibazol, you are hereby banished from this land on the grounds of treason.”

Keith could only stare. Lotor didn’t even put up a struggle, only coughing wetly before passing out on the marble. Then the Queen was turning to Keith, smiling warmly despite the sword being held to another person’s throat.

“Keith of Marmora?”

Keith nodded vaguely.

“Congratulations. The kingdom is yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my kink is characters reusing each others dialogue apparently :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!! This chapter was a little longer, so it took a little longer, but I hope it was worth it! ♥  
> And I hope this isn't too angsty/dramatic for positivity week lol, I figured it would make for a sweeter payoff :D


	5. Proposal

Lance had been assigned a rather regal room for his recovery at castle Daibazol. They couldn’t prescribe much for two broken ribs and a sprained ankle, but apparently ‘rest’ was sufficient enough for Lance to be afforded luxury. Even whilst keeping movement to a minimum, Lance could roll around in the plush four-poster bed he found himself in. He did not of course, though he did wrap himself up tightly in the goose feather duvet.

“I made sure to throw out all the perishables.”

There were huge glass windows too, stretching from floor to ceiling to display the magnificent gardens below. Bright pinks and speckled whites climbed up the glass in waves of green and beyond was a long stretch of perfectly cut grass, tucked between hedgerows that led into a twisting maze.

“And I fed all the animals. Gertie was a little upset you weren’t there though.”

The décor inside was just as sumptuous. Between the windows and the long flowing curtains were slices of white wall painted with intricate designs of birds swooping up to the ceiling that was really a masterpiece in itself. It was domed, painted with the colours of a golden sunrise with swallows dipping across the high curves.

“I got you some eggs too. Straight from the farm.”

Then there was that incessant buzzing coming from the man hovering beside Lance’s bed.

“I can get the cooks to make you something special, if you want.”

Lance simply levelled Keith with a look. A look he had been practicing for four days and had gotten rather good at, in his humble opinion. It was a simple one, the ghost of a pout on his lips paired with daggers for eyes, but it made Keith cower instantly, turning to a scolded puppy. Lance swished his nose back to the ceiling. No words were necessary. Keith knew what he did and Lance wanted to make him suffer for it.

“Or,” Keith hedged, and Lance felt the mattress dip, “we could go make something ourselves.”

Lance kept stubbornly silent, staring out at the gardens. It may have been a good offer, but was it as good as watching your boyfriend almost die? Would the food taste as sweet as that split-second decision Keith had made to run off into battle alone? Could Lance even take part in the baking? As Keith had demonstrated you didn’t even need three people to reclaim a kingdom, let alone make a flan.

“Lance?” Keith reached over to thread his fingers through Lance’s curls, voice resigned, “please.”

It took every ounce of strength left in Lance’s body not to react to the affectionate touch, or the softly sweet voice attached. If he hadn’t been facing the window, Lance was sure Keith’s puppy dog eyes would break him. Luckily, he didn’t have to hold out too long, as a knock on the door broke through his thoughts.

“Hey Lance,” Shiro said on entrance, nodding to his balled-up figure under the sheets. “Could I borrow Keith a moment?”

“Now’s not really-” Keith began but Lance quickly interrupted.

“Of course, Sir Shirogane.” He said, with over-exaggerated charm, politeness pouring out his every pore. “Anything for you.”

And just to spite Keith, he added a wink. Then the glare switched back on and he buried back down in his sheets.

Keith let out a long sigh.

“You know where to find me.” He said, squeezing Lance’s shoulder before stalking across the room.

It was quiet once again. Peaceful even. Lance let out a long breath, finally able to relax.

“You can’t ignore him forever.”

Another fun aspect of the room. It was shared with the other residents of Altea – the undercover guard, Allura, and Lance’s very own mother.

“I can do what I want.” Lance stated, throwing his arms across his chest. The mattress then dipped once again and Lance found his mother settling onto the pillow beside him, fingers already combing through his hair. Was that some sort of weak point they all knew about!?

“You don’t want to ignore him forever.” She said easily and it would have irritated Lance were it not for her gentle fingers swooping across his head.

“Not forever.” He admitted, though begrudgingly, “just a little while.”

Lance hadn’t given much thought to how long he’d keep up the silent treatment. It came natural at first, his anger getting the better of him. But then Keith had apologised and apologised and admitted more than once that he’d been wrong and that they were partners and Lance had easily forgiven him. The night had been a mess, sure, but it had all worked out. In fact, though Lance wouldn’t admit it, Keith acting quickly actually stopped his mother being poisoned so Lance was thankful to him for that. And even Lance being forced behind had a bright side, as his stubbornness got him up to the opposite tower, just in time to shoot Lotor before he sliced Keith in two. They were safe. Lance couldn’t be happier. And now the kingdom was Keith’s.

“You have two months left on the farm.” His mother said softly, trailing the shell of his ear. Lance sighed, rolling back against her thigh.

“Do we?”

“Of course you do, baby. You don’t think I’m counting your recovery time here, do you?”

Lance shook his head, dragging himself up to sit beside her. “But do you really think he wants to come back?”

Lance trailed his gaze out to the garden. It wasn’t empty anymore. Keith was stood there, cocking his head as Shiro ran back across the window. That was a new constant in their life now too, Shiro. Always checking in and offering help. Keith absolutely adored him.

“Why wouldn’t he my love?”

Lance shrugged, watching as Keith’s confusion suddenly burst into excitement and a second later he was floored by a blur of black fur. Lance’s lips twitched as a very large dog licked its way over Keith’s face, Keith squirming away with a huge smile across his lips. Suddenly his chest ached.

“He has a kingdom now.” Lance said, fiddling with he buttons of his shirt, “a whole new future he didn’t have before.”

His mother nudged him with her elbow, “and have you spoken to Keith about this?”

“No.” Lance pouted, sliding away from her, still watching Keith. He’d managed to get to his feet now, but the dog had too, and it bounced excitedly, nearly knocking the boy over with its amusement like an oversized puppy. Then it struck Lance; the dog probably had been a puppy the last time the two had met. Lance’s chest ached even more.

His mother sighed. “Well. I maybe shouldn’t be the one to tell you this.”

Lance finally flickered his gaze back to his mother and found her smiling slyly. His skin felt hot at the realisation he’d been caught red-handed. But she didn’t tease, just chuckled to herself as she threw an arm around his shoulder.

“Keith isn’t King.” She said easily, throwing Lance through a loop, “he put Shiro in charge as soon as he could. Something about a prior engagement.”

Lance suddenly sat up straight.

“You mean?”

“Lance. That boy nearly gave his life for you. Did you really think he’d just up and leave?”

“But,” Lance said unbelieving, “he said he’d take back the kingdom...”

His words trailed off as he watched Keith throw a stick outside. The dog barely flinched, just blinking happily up at him and Keith shook his head, fondness dripping from his eyes.

“Only to stop it trying to kill you.”

“So…” Lance’s eyes wandered to his sword left abandoned on a chair with the rest of his things.

“Maybe I should put that two months towards a honeymoon?”

Lance jumped, face exploding with heat as his mother burst into laughter.

“I never said!”

The woman shook her head, cheeks like balloons ready to burst. “Oh baby, you’ve never been subtle.”

Lance threw his gaze back to the bed, pouting. He never said.

“You know you can if you want.” She said, squeezing him in a very much one-sided hug as she got to her feet, “you have my blessing.”

“Don’t need it.” Lance snapped stubbornly. But his insides began tingling anyway. Could he really do it? Marry Keith? The man was still outside the window, only now he was attempting to bury himself in the dog’s fur, falling back as the wolf of a creature rolled over. Laughter wracked his cheeks and Lance’s stomach swooped at the sight. The real question was, how could he not?

~♥~

Lance had to trek all the way up to the tower drawing room to find Keith that evening. The glass had been cleared, the chairs and table sitting snugly once again, the only hint of any previous tussle being the husk of a sword sticking out the wall like a lever. Keith’s back was turned, left open as usual Lance mused, as he traced the outline of metal threading through the wall.

“Hey.” Lance said, stepping quietly into the room.

Keith immediately spun round, “Lance!”         

His face burst with light, and Lance almost felt bad for ignoring him for four days. Then he was running over and Lance was tackled into a bear hug. It had only been a few days, but Lance was struck with how much he had missed Keith’s warmth, quickly grabbing fistfuls of his shirt in his desperation to touch.

“Wait.” Keith pulled back, gripping Lance by the shoulders and narrowing his eyes, “shouldn’t you be resting?”

Lance shrugged. “Doctor said I can take walks now, as long as they’re light and brief.”

“And you deemed walking up the tower stairwell light and brief?” Keith asked, fixing him with an infuriating look. Lance let out a huff.

“Well you were the one who decided to come all the way up here!”

Keith smirked. Like he’d won something. “So, you were looking for me?”

Lance rolled his eyes. Keith’s victory smile was very cute, but he had not won anything. Lance had simply decided he had suffered enough. And besides, he wanted cuddles. He deserved cuddles. That was supposed to be the one good thing about being bedbound for a week and Lance was fed up of missing out. Speaking of, why was Keith unwrapping his arms from their current one?

“I’m sorry.” He said, and Lance found a frown painting his lips that he immediately wanted to wipe off. “I never should have run off. I should have at least told you my plan, I-”

“Shush.” Lance whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb stretching up to flatten his nervous eyebrow, “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

Keith shook his head, reaching up the cover his hand. Words formed along his lips but Lance didn’t let them leave.

“I was angry at first.” He said, holding Keith’s gaze with softness. “And we could have done things way less stressfully. But honestly? I’m just happy everything worked out.”

Keith smiled then, lips slipping under Lance’s hand as his eyes slid shut.

“Me too.”

He threaded their fingers together, pulling their hands down so that they could rest their foreheads against one another. It was such an easy touch, but it radiated warmth like a sun and Lance melted under it, humming quietly as he swung their hands together.

“I was so scared.”

Keith pushed in closer, breath brushing over Lance’s lips.

“I’m here. I’m not gonna scare you again.”

Lance shook his head.

“But-” His voice came out shaky and he stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t say it? But then Keith squeezed his hand, promising patience and Lance found its strength burn through him. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes again. “Are you going to leave me?”

Keith stiffened, blinking widely.

“Why would I do that?”

The boy seemed utterly stunned and Lance’s heart swelled. With the incredulous tone to his voice, Lance’s last doubts slipped away like silk.

“Lance.” Keith continued, lifting his hand to trace his knuckles against Lance’s cheek, feather-like touch igniting. “I love you. I want to be with you. I want to stand by your side, whether we’re in a palace or all the way back on Buttercup farm.”

Lance let out a wet laugh, feeling it radiate out from his chest as he leant into the touch.

“You still wanna go back?”

“Of course. I’ve still got two months on my contract, right?”

“Right.”

Then Lance leaned up, meeting Keith halfway to share a kiss that had waited so long. It burned across his tongue, fizzling through his veins like sweet lemonade as Keith wrapped him up in his arms, sticking them together like bubble-gum and refusing to let go. Lance was on a sugar-high, an addict getting his fix, and he poured every inch of his need through the kiss.

“You know,” Keith said, leaning back to catch his breath, “I don’t even have a sword. I’m a pretty bad bodyguard.”

Lance smirked. “Funny you should mention that.”

Then, instead of diving in for more kisses, Lance slid out of Keith’s hold, much to the other’s disappointment. Unlatching his sword from around his waist, he watched Keith’s confusion, hands hovering around his hips like all he wanted was to reel Lance back in. It made Lance’s blood flicker to life. He held Keith’s gaze a moment. Then he fell to one knee, raising the sword high above his head in offering.

“Keith of Marmora,” He said, unable to stop the giddiness burst out onto his voice. “I, Lance of Altea, offer you my sword, my life and my heart.”

Keith shook his head, unbelieving, “Lance are you…?”

Lance grinned, chest overflowing with warmth as Keith’s face began to glow, eyes shining like perfect onyx stones.

“Keith, my love, will you marry me?”

The world paused for a second, Lance’s heartbeat drumming madly in his ears as he gazed up at his beloved. He was so perfect. Eyes dark and yearnful, lips parted in disbelief, cheeks still red from all the kisses. Then Keith was nodding furiously, and the world sped up into double time. Yanking Lance onto his feet, Keith slammed their lips together, nearly knocking him over again with the force of his embrace. Hands crushed Lance’s cheeks and they kissed sloppily, a hot mess of tongue and lips, but Lance had no complaints.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, knees buckling as he held onto Keith’s collar for dear life.

“Yes,” Keith hissed, without even a hint of malice, eyes burning as they met his, “and I’m gonna marry the hell out of you.”

And then he was kissing him again, practically inhaling Lance as he pushed them back into one of the seats.

“I love you.” He said, looming over Lance with eyes gone wild and hair in complete disarray.

“Love you too,” Lance breathed, nothing short of star struck. Then Keith was kissing him again. His lips, his cheeks, his neck –any patch of skin he could reach– and Lance was falling back into the chair boneless. Keith was wrong. Lance was going to marry the hell out of _him_. Just as soon as he got his strength back.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe i had fun writing this chapter :D hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!! ♥


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